Back to You
by likes-it-bubbly
Summary: PM and TCOT Lost Love. Laura's personal questions about her and Perry have disturbed Della more than she let on. Will Perry realize how much the Robertson case has shook Della up! Warning: Angst! And then some fluffin'...
1. Chapter 1

A Della Street / Perry Mason romance

**BACK TO YOU**

**Disclaimer:** These characters are not mine. I'm just trying to make them happy.

**Setting:** 1987. PM and TCOT Lost Love. Last scene. Della is standing in front of the courthouse while Perry is inside talking to Laura Robertson. This is where this story takes off. **Spoilers** for PERRY MASON AND THE CASE OF THE LOST LOVE, obviously. ;o)

**Pairing:** Della & Perry. **Rating: **T. **Warning:** Angst alert! And then some fluffin'...

**Summary:** Laura's personal questions about her and Perry have disturbed Della more than she let on. Will Perry realize how much the Robertson case has shook Della up?

* * *

><p>Della stood in front of the courthouse and waited for him after the unexpected result of the prelimenary hearing. Her feet were rooted on concrete floor. She tried hard not to pace it, run back inside, go looking for him. Della Street stood, shut away her concern, her disquiet. Flickered her eyes but didn't manage to smile. She seemed mildly impatient, at best, to anyone who didn't know her. Anyone who did could sense the riot of emotions she otherwise managed to hide so effectively. Her face was a mask of grace and steadfastness. Little evidence of her roaming thoughts, the pain she was going through. The doubts, preying on her mind since Perry had come out to Denver to see his lost love.<p>

Della's heart beat fast. Her body was tensed. This one woman, and only she. Della didn't trust him with her. After all those years, Laura Robertson still occupied his mind.

"Did you ever get married?"

Laura's question had surprised her. Thrown her off balance. She in that hotel room with her, alone. No way to escape, the situation, their past. Her eyes had pierced her.

"What about Perry and you?"

_I know you love him_ – Laura had seemed to continue prying as she had looked at her, had waited for an answer she already seemed to know. After all, Perry hadn't married either.

Della minded that she didn't have the words to tell her. Didn't do more than confirm Laura's subliminal judgment with a simple "no".

"Am I interrupting something?"

Perry Mason had very well known that he had. Had seen it in Della's evasive behavior, her unusual discomfort, her blushed cheeks. And Laura's mask of practiced innocence.

Della wished she could have drawn a line, right there, right then, with more than a mannerly smile. Instead, she had run away, from a lie or the truth, she strangely didn't know. The famous lawyer and his secretary, Laura's words seemed to imply. A secret love affair, indecent somehow - disreputable? Such a cliché. If only her assumption hadn't nurtured a feeling that was nestling in Della's heart since Perry had taken Glenn Robertson's case. Without hesitation, for Laura. A privilege only few people were granted.

Della flickered her eyes to swallow the tears that threatened to dwell up. What if Perry decided to take on Laura's case? His eyes had told her that he didn't know what to do after the trial. Laura's crime, her confession had crushed him. He seemed to hurt as much as on that night, ten years ago, when he had left L.A. - to start a life, step by step, without her by his side.

"Let's just say I grew tired of writing opinions."

Della remembered his words upon his return to her_. _A little less than two years ago - they had both known he was just gilding the truth behind his reasons to step down from justice-ship. He had missed her, more than words could say. Had tried to tell her on the few occasions they had met. The great Perry Mason and his loyal secretary. Eight years apart. Their separation had left a mark on both of them.

Della sighed and tried to will away the lump that was forming in her throat. She loved him, Laura Robertson was right to presume. She had never been able to fully conceal her feelings. Della pursed her lips to control the fear that she had lost him after all, to the only woman she knew he had loved before her.

Maybe she shouldn't have insisted on taking it slow. Their re-acquaintance, a careful approach. A kiss here and there. An embrace. A tender caress, a nap on the couch in his arms, her head on his shoulders in his car...

Maybe she should have told him how much she loved him. Still. Or again. How their intimacy and his affection, her emotions for him almost suffocated her.

"Della," his voice suddenly cut into her as he exited the courthouse and approached her from behind.

"Yes?" She managed to sound all right. Her voice controlled and raw.

Perry put his arm around her and drew her close. His face was thoughtful, his touch intimate as usual. "Let's go home."

Della's face lightened up. He had made up his mind. A sigh, assuaged. But not quite.

They walked down the steps to the parking lot, his arm tenderly tugged around her shoulders. He didn't talk. She didn't ask. But something in Della had changed.


	2. Chapter 2

"You look relieved," Perry remarked as they reached the car and looked at her face, relaxed again and pretty.

"I am," Della answered softly and gracefully slided into the driver' seat.

"So I take it you are driving?" The lawyer teased his head of office.

"The doctor told you not to," his confidential secretary gave back matter-of-factly.

"Do you know where to go?" He climbed onto the passenger's seat and smirked mischievously, his melancholy completely vanished from his face.

"I do," she said and buckled her seatbelt. "I hope you don't mind a detour."

Perry looked at her and scanned her face for clues about her unexpected change of plans. "Where are we going?"

"My, counselor, aren't you up for a surprise?" Della smiled, flirting openly with him.

Her cheekiness both tickled and astonished him. So he leaned back and let her go ahead. "All right then."

Della nodded and pulled out of the parking space in one quick move, making the green lights just in time. Perry raised his eyebrow and smirked.

"What?" Della asked with a hint of challenge in her voice.

"Nothing," Perry gave back good-humoredly. "I just wonder why I let Paul do all the driving lately?"

"That I really don't know," Della answered drily and pursed her lips to cover a smile.

A couple of minutes later, they reached the hotel and found Paul waiting for them with a bored expression on his face. He was sitting on his suitcase and and looked up when he spotted Della behind the wheel, pulling up, and shot Perry a bemused smile.

"Now that's an image I don't get to see very often," he cheeked her.

"You better get used to it," Della answered sweetly and leaned in to Perry to stop him from unbuckling his seatbelt. "I won't be long," she added and hopped out and around the car before Perry or Paul could ask any further questions.

"What's going on?" Paul didn't care to hide the amusement in his voice.

"If I've learned one thing in all those years," Perry Mason answered factually. "No matter how often I think otherwise, I know nothing about Della Street."

Paul glared at his father's longtime friend while he threw his luggage in the trunk. Then he walked around the car and opened the driver's door.

"That I wouldn't do, my friend," Perry said quietly and nodded his head to the hotel Della had disappeared in moments earlier. "If that woman's made up her mind about something, she'll go through with it in that gentle way of hers. She's determined to drive, you let her drive."

Paul shot Perry an inquiring look and almost jumped away from the car at the sound of Della's warm but insistent voice.

"Don't even think about it," she addressed the blonde detective in her secretarial tone.

Perry chuckled. "I told you so."

"Make yourself comfortable in the back," Della gently nudged Paul without leaving a doubt about her sincerity. "I'm going to drop you off at the airport."

"What about you?" Paul asked suspiciously and watched how Mr. Mason's secretary sweetly directed the hotel staff to load Perry's and her own suitcases in the trunk. Then she handed them a tip and hummed a polite _thank you. _The men gladly returned her warmhearted smile and held the door for her to get back into the car. Della nodded and thanked them again, only to redirect her smile at Perry who was squeezing her hand.

"We're taking a little roadtrip home," Della finally answered Paul's puzzled question.

"When did that come up?" Paul tried to make himself comfortable in the backseat of the car.

"Only recently," Perry uttered, his eyes still scanning Della's face for a reason for her sponteneity.

"It's really hard to keep up with you two," Paul shook his head and ignored the tenderness exchanged in a look between the attorney and his confidential secretary.

"Always glad to keep you on your toes," Perry answered the young detective and averted his attention back to Della who pulled the car out of the driveway and back onto the busy road.

Paul studied them from the back of the car – Della's eyes focused on the road ahead. Her smile when Perry's hand softly grazed against her thigh or knee, unintentionally. Those little hints of togetherness, of history, of something beyond their carefully composed, professional intimacy.

He remembered her shook up, only a day ago or two. Time always rushed by so fast when they were on a case. But her face, Paul recalled, was different then and yet the same. He had asked her if she was all right. A quiet yes had been her answer. It always was.

"She is different around Perry," his father used to tell him years ago. "Together they can face any storm."

But what if the storm comes from within, Paul wondered. Eight years apart, he knew from his father, had been hard enough on both of them. Paul himself had never seen the change. Della's smile was always warm to him. But Denver had been different somehow. Back in court, now in this car, she had seemed so lonely in the past few days yet whole again when Perry was around. She was a puzzle his father had given up on, a long time ago. And Paul wasn't sure if he would do any better at trying to put the pieces together. At trying to solve the mystery of Della Street.

"Have a fun trip," Paul finally said when they reached his gate and Della parked the car in order to give him a proper hug good-bye.

"I'll call you when we have arrived," Della answered him with tears in her eyes and held him close.

Paul looked at Perry who covered his concern with a nonchalant shrug before he broke free from her arms. Perry patted the young man's shoulders and climbed back into the car.

"See you in L.A.," he sent him off and turned his attention back to Della and her unusually emotional farewell. "Now you have me worried that this may be a oneway trip," Perry tried to cheer her up.

Della clicked her lips and chuckled, shrugging him off. "It's always good to see him."

Perry nodded. He knew how she always doted on Paul Junior. Yet the intensity of her emotions had him concerned.

A couple of minutes later, they sat in silence as Della moved the car over country roads and freeways farther away from the city. Perry listened to the sound of the wheels working the road, the sound of her breathing, the hammering repetition of his own thoughts.

Della tried to shrug them off, the most recent memories of Denver and the trial. She had always loved the silence she could enjoy with Perry. No one else ever made her feel so comfortable being still. Today was different though, his face disquieted. It made her wonder what he was thinking of.

Hours later, Della stopped the car to stretch her legs and offered him a sandwich from her perfectly organized snack basket in the back.

"Are you ever unprepared for anything?" Perry chuckled and placed a grateful kiss onto her cheeks.

Della closed her eyes when his lips touched her skin and opened them again, quick enough to lock her eyes with his. "I told you before," she said with a mischievous smile. "You have spoiled me."

Perry felt the tension building up between them, only to find her slipping away in a slow, graceful turn. Della grabbed the basket and took the thermos jug to pour him a cup of tea. When she handed it to him, Perry took it and held on to her hand a moment too long. Della gave him a sweet, evasive smile and withdrew her hand from his with a glimpse of regret in her eyes.

"Why are we taking this trip?" Perry asked tenderly and reached his hand out to caress her face.

"Just another change of schedule," Della answered honestly. And he would have believed her, if only her voice hadn't cracked.

As a lawyer, Perry had always known when to adjourn a questioning or a case. So he withdrew his hand to give her some space and sipped at his tea. Whatever made Della feel uncomfortable, he was ready to wait for her to open up to him. So he remained silent for most of their remaining trip and sifted through a pile of files Della had known to pack for him in the glove compartment.


	3. Chapter 3

When they broke into Utah a couple of hours later, Perry knew she was opting for a stay in their favorite get-away in Park City. But to his surprise he found that she had booked their usual room for only one night.

Beat from driving and only one full break, Della excused herself faster than he liked and lay down to rest. Perry had tried to talk to her over dinner – discreetly set up in their room. He was still curious about her discomfort and her quietness. But her answers, although bubbly, had felt halfhearted and strangely vague. So he let her sleep, curled up on her side of the bed. Only one bedroom, he had remarked with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes – Della had nodded and sweetly avoided the subject. So they slept, her back turned to him, his arm tugged around her waist to hold her close. His face buried in the softness of her curls. His eyes open, his mind preoccupied. The trial. Laura, and Della by his side. Perry kissed the back of her head. This trip through the country was one of her many ingenious ideas.

The next morning, Perry Mason woke to to the sound of Della's feet pacing the carpeted suite floor. She had ordered a hearty breakfast and was packing their bags. A pot of coffee on the table, some ham and eggs, she was ready to resume their trip. Della Street was chipper for that early hour in the morning. And Perry still wondered what was going on inside her head.

When they crossed the border into Nevada later that day, a first wicked thought entered his mind. And a smile touched his lips.

"Did you happen to pack the keys for the cabin?" Perry asked tenderly.

"You know I like to plan ahead," Della answered sweetly, her eyes focused on the road before her.

"And there I thought you had adapted to my spontaneity after all these years." He grinned.

"Oh, I have. But a little planning rarely gets in the way." She answered him warmly.

"So what _is_ the plan exactly?" Perry tried to finally draw the secret from her.

"In another couple of hours you'll know." Della said seductively and shortly squeezed his hand with hers. "Trust me."

"That I do," he placed a soft kiss onto her cheek and triggered one of her homey smiles.

On their way to Bear Valley - Perry was pleased and didn't mind to show his delight.

Another couple of miles and a lunch break later, Perry had drifted off to sleep. The radio played an old mystery he remembered he had once already listened to. Back in the days, with Paul Senior and Della on another trip through the country. One of the few times they had been able to convince the private eye to travel with them, by their side. Not on a plane but on the road.

The banter had been comfortable, the food plenty and good – Della had taken care of that.

Perry smiled at the memory, heard her cheerful voice arguing with Paul over the suspects on the radio. Heard her hearty chuckles when her hunch about the murderer had turned out to be right. When Paul had lost his bet to her. Had paid her out by rubbing her back. That sound of comfort born somewhere deep within, her throat, her gut. A glimpse of his eyes on her in the rear mirror. That look she had given him, uninhibited for a beat. She had rolled her head to give Paul better access for his massage and Perry's eyes a chance to caress her neck. Then later, the ticklish feeling of her curls against his neck when she had rested her head on his shoulders to sleep while Paul was driving. How Paul had teased them to behave when Perry had tickled her awake. When his arm had dropped from her shoulders down to her waist. His hand so comfortable on her belly, her hip. That sparkle in her eyes, always aware of Paul driving the car. Her fingers entangled with his for a moment so brief he wouldn't have recalled it hadn't it been the first time. Her smile so coy yet so alluring. Memories so distant and yet so fresh.

"Do you need anything?" The softness of her voice reached Perry's ear and changed the pictures in his head. His eyes still closed.

"No," he mumbled and listened to the sound of her refueling the car before he surrendered to resume his blissful slumber.

In his mind, he saw her face again, a smile so happy he wished to bottle it. His fingers tousled her hair, caressed her waist, her belly - so curvy, so soft. She was lying next to him – on his couch, in his bed. Young again. Her feet caressed his legs, her mouth welcomed his. Her house then, her bed, her scent. Her knowledge of him at fifty-five. The sadness of her smile. Her repressed tears when she had seen him off to San Francisco. Her first trip up to visit him. Bear Valley. His cabin. Her letters, her calls. The first weekend she didn't come.

Perry tossed and turned in his seat. The car had stopped again and he heard the familiar sound of Della's heels clicking on cement floor. Unwilling to open his eyes, Perry kept on remembering her face. Back at the office, sitting on his desk, her hands on his shoulders, her sleeping form on the couch. Della taking notes, in the courtroom, by his side. A reassuring smile on her lips. Always looking after him. There to steady him. Her blushed face, her agitation when he had interrupted her conversation with Laura. Her anxious behavior since they had arrived in Denver. Her deafening silence after the trial.

Perry's eyes flipped open.

He had been so preoccupied. So wrapped up in that case, his own helplessness. He had barely noticed how she had slipped away from him. Always so quiet when she disapproved or tried to give him space. The way she had looked at him after Laura's confession. Had offered to be there with a simple touch of her hand. Had taken in his decision to go see Laura one more time. Her clouded eyes. Then her relief when he had returned to her. Her tainted smile. That almost tortured sigh.

"We have arrived," Della's voice sounded gently through the open window, her hand moved over the back of his neck in a tender caress.

Perry looked at her with sleep-fogged eyes and nodded. He untangled himself from his seat belt and climbed out of the car, his eyes following her as she walked away from him. He watched her opening the trunk to unload their luggage. Her face tired and thoughtful. Her fingers gently rubbed her forehead to chase away the exhaustion from a trip that had been longer than she remembered it to be.

Della placed ther suitcases on the driveway, closed the trunk and locked the car. Perry stood and watched her.

"Where are we now?" He asked softly and gently grabbed the upper end of her arm to caress it. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but unlike in court, he didn't have the courage to just make his case to her.

"Your cabin," Della answered coyly and leaned in to him. "Traffic was light."


	4. Chapter 4

An hour and a half later, their bags unpacked and organized, Della left the shower and wrapped herself in Perry's cozy bathrobe. She loved the feeling of large fluff on her body reaching all the way down to the floor. How the terry cloth hugged her like he would. The smell of it fresh from the dryer. Her hair still wet, unruly, curled. Her naked feet on wooden floor, leaving a trace of water drops from his bathroom to her room. The sound of his voice calling her name from the kitchen.

"Dinner is ready if you are!"

Della smiled and followed the smell of steak and green asparagus.

"That smells divine," she said as she poked her head around the corner to spot Perry serving their food.

"I hope it tastes divine, too," he answered while her poured her a glass of wine. "Come up here before it gets cold."

"I should get dressed," Della tried to excuse herself. But Perry shook his head.

"You've dawdled enough, curly head," he moved his eyes over the full length of her body in one slow, loving gaze. "First things first," he added and pointed at the steaming food on the table. "Your steak won't get any better waiting for you."

Della pursed her lips and smiled. "Right." Then she walked up to him and sat on the chair he held for her. "I see you found everything."

"You had everything prepared as usual," Perry answered, seated himself and gently caressed her hand. "Whatever would I do without you?"

Della chuckled. "Get take-out."

Perry shot her a pouty look and hid his smile. "Eat," he said and pointed his knife at her plate.

Della chuckled again and licked her lips as she took the first bite. "Delicious as usual," she hummed and triggered his smile to show itself.

"That bathrobe looks good on you," Perry gave back and rested his eyes on her lusciously exposed collarbones.

Della followed his gaze and allowed a smile to creep from the left corner of her mouth to the right. Then she adjusted the bathrobe and shielded her skin from his approving eyes. His regret was obvious, Della noticed with a quiet chuckle. He was in a playful mood. Maybe she would tell him tonight.

After dinner, Perry arranged for a glass of wine by the couch while Della put on a light dress in the privacy of her room. When she returned, she joined him on the couch and welcomed his arms drawing her close as soon as she sat. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, its rhythm.

They sat entangled like that for a while. The sound of her steady breathing reassured him. His caress made her feel at home.

"This is exactly what I needed," Perry said huskily after a while.

"I figured you could do with a little break," Della said carefully while her fingers drew circles on his heaving chest.

Perry looked at her. He sensed there was more to it than just her instincts about his needs. "How long did you plan for us to stay?" He asked, curious about her motives.

"Long enough to chase away the ghosts from the past," Della replied and carefully raised her head to look deep into his darkened blue eyes.

"Is that what this is all about?" Perry brushed his lips against the top of her head to nudge her – then he locked his eyes with hers again.

When her deep brown met his sparkling blue, he was unprepared. The intensity of her emotions hit him like a storm. He had never seen her crumbling like that. Not even in that holding cell a little less than two years ago – when she had cried, for the first time in his arms.

"Is this why you've been pulling away from me?" Perry started, his voice unaccusing and low. "Because I went to see a woman I once cared about in the past?"

Della looked at him, unable to shake her head. Unable to avert her gaze from his. Unable to ignore his hands that had started to caress her waist.

"You loved her," Della said sadly and bit her inner lip to will back the trembling in her voice.

"Never as much as I have loved you," Perry answered, his own voice failing him. He was not used to expressing his feelings so openly. So he pulled her into a kiss. Della gasped and welcomed his tenderness. Their kiss so intimate. Bringing back so many memories.

Perry remembered how his lips had first grazed hers – all those years ago. How her face had told him that she loved him. Her eyes had glistened in the half-lit room. Her sigh mixed with a squeal when he had pulled her close, gently but then fierce enough. He wanted her so much. How her lips had trembled. Tasted sweet. So bewitching, her scent, her touch.

Della smiled, her eyes almost closed when his mouth found hers. She moaned. He had always known how to make her weak. His nuzzling lips, so ticklish on hers, arousing memories of them. Her in his arms, lifted up, making her feel so beautiful and loved. His fingers on her skin, his lips.

"Don't you know, Della," Perry whispered into her, "how much I love you?" His mouth captured hers and kissed her again, deeper now, making sure she understood he didn't intend to let her go.

"How much I wish we'd gotten married? Children included, grand-children now?" Perry broke their kiss and gently pulled her onto his lap.

"Whenever I see you with Paul these days I am reminded of what great a mother you would have been to our children. And it hurts me to know that I missed out on that. That I made you give up a part of you, something I know you wanted. A part that's still alive in you today." He buried his face in her hair, caressed her shoulders, her waist.

"Della, I wish I could have given you all of that. Wish I could return to where I went wrong by choosing my career over everything. Convince myself to let you show me that home you were always afraid I'd loathe one day. That house in the valley where I know you would have liked to have it."

Perry felt her sob against him, unsure if his words made her feel better or worse. He held her close and placed soft kisses onto her head.

"I love you, Della Street. And I wish I had been as convincing with you as I have been in court. But I argued my case halfheartedly, afraid to lose you at the office, lose you to kids and a kitchen I thought I didn't want." Perry held his breath and felt her breathing slowing down as she found comfort in his words.

"Sometimes I wish we would've been less cautious. That an accident would've forced us to marry to sort things out for us. But fate didn't work that way. It meant well with us being stubborn fools. " Perry reached his hand up to touch her face and wiped away her tears.

"I'd give up my all for you, Della," he leaned down to place a tender kiss onto her lips. "You just have to tell me what you want."

Della tasted his kiss and blinked her eyes when she looked up. She smiled at him through her tears, seriously, trying to keep her emotions from overwhelming her again.

"I want to be your wife, Perry." She paused and looked at him, unsure how to go on. "I should have married you a long time ago."

Perry didn't smile. He didn't move. He only held her, his eyes filled up with emotions she had long missed to see.

"Back in the days, when we still had a choice, we both knew that founding a family wasn't for you." She held her breath and rested her hand on his chest to fondle it before she went on.

"But I regret that I didn't go to San Francisco with you. That I put your career over both of our happiness." The words came easy to her now and Della let them flow. Two years of holding back. Of never getting past their agreement that it was good to see him again.

"But then again," Della continued, "we cannot change the past. We can't go back and just do over. This is what we have left. You and me. At work or sharing a bed. I mean, the times have changed. We can have both now. Could've had that some time ago but no matter how fast you move in court, you don't easily adapt to changes in your private life. Neither do I. That's why I stayed behind in L.A., waited for you to come back. Was looking for the courage to follow you. Drove up to you every weekend until seeing you hurt more than being apart from you. Feeling your arms around me for two short days without having you around for the rest of the week. Not hearing your voice over the phone because we were both too busy to call. Too wrapped up in work. That vicious helper in getting over a broken heart." Della sought his eyes to make him understand that she didn't mean to prosecute him. Her heart was doubling over at the memories, her regret, ready to pour out her sentiments.

"That's what it was for me, Perry. I was trying to mend a broken heart. And I cannot blame you for breaking it. You gave me a choice to pack my things and follow you. But I didn't want to leave my home. Although my home was with you. And then you brought it back to me, eight years later. It felt so good to see you again. It felt so good to be back in your arms, no matter how tainted the circumstances. And you have no idea how hard it was for me to call you in the first place. To ask you for help. But I did. Because there was no one else I could've turned to. No one else I would've trusted," Della took a deep breath. Her voice was bubbling over, she was so emotional. Did not hold back. Decided to get it all out, now that they finally had their heart-to-heart.

"Two years ago it felt good to find you to trust me as your friend again. To go right back to where we had left off. A unity at work - look how long that has worked for us. But now, Perry, I am tired of never having all of you," she leaned in to kiss him gently on the mouth.

"I finally see what I think you wanted all along," Della kissed him again. "I want to marry you. Not for Laura, although she made me see how much I was struggling to find my footing with you again. I've been trying to figure out where to go with you since my trial. And I don't regret that. But I would regret to continue like this. I don't have it in me to smile through another woman's flirtations with you." Della gave him a blushed smile. She had a hard time admitting to her jealousy.

"I love you, Perry Mason. I have loved you for a very long time and the past two years have only shown me that I've come to love you more," she rested her head on his shoulder and hid in his arms that closed around her for a tight embrace. "You are my life, Perry. You are my family. And after all these years I am ready to be your wife."

Della felt his eyes lingering on hers, heard his breathing change. Enjoyed how he allowed her words to sink in. Took his time. Indulged in his body heaving against hers, his hands fondling her curves.

"Do you remember what I said to you in Denver?" Perry finally asked in a whisper. Her words had clearly made an impact. His voice was raw and brittle. "About going home?"

Della nodded.

"I wanted go home with you because that's where I belong," he continued and pulled her into a lingering kiss. "I always have."

"It's been so long," Della gasped and tilted her head to give him access to tease her neck.

"Without a doubt, Ms. Street," Perry answered with a smile and nuzzled his way from her jawline to the soft skin on her neck. Then he studied her face, her eyes half shut, her cheeks rejuvenated and blushed. A contented smile on her lips, bewitching him like only she could.


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks later, Della stood next to him. Her hands in his, exchanging rings. Their vows were short. Heartfelt. Deep. To love and cherish – what more was there to say?

Perry's eyes rested on hers. There was no vow that could express his love for her. No ring that would change what he felt. But her smile. Exuberant and humbled. The way her dress hugged her curves. Her fluffy hair. That sparkle in her eyes. He felt so blessed.

Della's throat was dry, her voice warm and husky when she said his name, soon to be hers. Her voice was shaking, almost broke. "I take thee, Perry Mason..." The rest of the line was strangely lost but Perry squeezed her hand and helped her through with it.

At the party, Della floated on the dance floor, safely wrapped in her husband's arms. In the company of few close friends, they were alone. No fuss – Perry had gladly agreed with her. Only a small announcement in the local paper. "Famous lawyer weds secretary of thirty plus years." L.A. Times and only that, delivered to Denver to settle a case long filed away.


End file.
